Expendable Much?
by Neo-Marauders
Summary: A Thrilling Tale of Love, Laughs, and Life in the Background. *SLASH!!!* R&R ^_~
1. Quidditch Anyone?

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CHAPTER THE SECOND  
Quidditch Anyone?  
by Fiora Visirel  
  
It couldn't have been two minutes later when feet were heard running up the stairs that lead to the boy's dormitories. Neville burst through the door just as the trunk lid slammed shut. His face was flushed and his breathing ragged, as if he had just run the entire quidditch pitch seven times.  
  
"Let me guess, you are coming in here to ask if we have seen Trevor. You see-" Seamus started quickly, not wanting to give anything away.  
  
"No," Neville interrupted, "Actually, I came up here to inform you that-"  
  
"Neville," Dean cut in, just as flustered as his Irish counterpart, "We'd love to stay and chat but I /do/ believe that there is a little thing called a Quidditch game about to start, and if we don't leave now, we will be late. And if we're late, McGonagall won't be happy with Seamus, owing that he /is/ the announcer, and a late announcer means a late start. And a late start means some edgy students. We don't want that now do we?"  
  
With that being said, Seamus and Dean headed out the dormitories at a rather hurried pace, leaving poor Neville looking as if he would burst into confused tears at any moment.  
  
"Way to babble incoherently, Thomas." muttered Seamus, running down stairs at near lightspeed.  
  
"Shut up. Like you were acting any less suspicious."  
  
"Just. Act. Normal." breathed Seamus, not sure if he were addressing Dean or himself.  
  
As they stepped out onto the grounds, the slight chill in the air hit them like a hammer. Ever since morning the grass had been covered with a thin layer of frost, and it had not yet melted. Despite the cold, all the flowers and trees were still in full bloom. The day was clear, with a few cotton ball-like clouds scattered in the powder blue sky. The sun shone brightly, creating a large golden streak in the pond at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Like the school, the outside was quiet. No birds singing, no voices to be heard anywhere; the only audible sound was that of their breathing. The boys walked briskly, realizing that they were later than they first thought.   
  
Within moments, towers of green and silver, red and gold, blue and bronze, and yellow and black rose above the hills in front of the two boys. As they approached the Quidditch pitch, they could see large masses of black and house colours randomly scattered along the field, as well as a total racket coming from the center of the pitch.  
  
"This is interesting," Dean commented sarcastically on the scenery to Seamus with the air of art critic, "But why on Earth would they be having a fair in the middle of the Quidditch pitch right before a match?"  
  
"I really hate to burst your bubble, Dean", Seamus said, echoing his friend's tone, "but I /do/ believe that this is what a riot looks like."   
  
Upon a closer examination of the pitch, it was obvious that Seamus was right. Students yelled and ran all across the field to get away from the normally docile Ravenclaws, who were acting a little out of character, to say the least. They'd even gone so far as throwing random unidentified objects onto the pitch out of lack of patience. All because the game   
was ten minutes late due to the absence of the announcer and his prefect companion.  
  
Seamus stared in disbelief. "Honestly, it's only been ten minutes. They're acting like I'm five months late."  
  
With that, the pair ran across the pitch and proceeded to trek up the stairs to the top of one of the Gryffindor towers. They managed to arrive at their seats five minutes later. (Climbing up those fifty flights of stairs, even when one knows magic, /is/ a bit time consuming.) Upon reaching the top, McGonagall had a look on her face that would make even the seventh years cower.   
  
"And where have you and Mr. Thomas been, Mr. Finnegan? Hmm? Perhaps, Mr. Finnegan, you should start the game and put an end to this madness." Professor McGonagall began gesturing to the rioting crowd. She opened her mouth to say more, but just then a butterbeer bottle rocketed through the air, headed straight for her head. The Transfiguration professor was just a second too late in ducking, for the projectile hit the point of her hat and knocked it off the back of the stands. With a sigh, she began descending the fifty flights of stairs to retrieve her hat.  
  
"/Sonorus/!" Seamus said, holding his wand to his throat. "Hello and welcome." Seamus continued, his voice booming over the madness of the crowd. Needless to say, this got the students' attention. "Will all Hogwarts students please report to their house sections?" Seamus waited until the pandemonium had calmed down and everyone was in his or her rightful positions.   
  
Seamus's announcing voice was rather dry today, yet, there was a trace of panic in it also. Everyone was too busy trying to get back to their sections that they didn't notice. "Today's game, Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor." Cheers echoed from the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor sections upon the announcement of their teams, both houses trying to outdo one another. "Allow me to introduce our players today. On the Ravenclaw team, Cho Chang, the seeker, and the first female Quidditch captain in Hogwarts history. Jules Jacobs, keeper. Adam Chang and Maria Clearwater, the beaters. Adam, as you might have guessed is Cho's little brother, and Maria is sister to another Hogwarts alumnus, Penolope Clearwater, who was Head Girl back in '93. And here's some interesting trivia for all you gossips out there- Penelope dated Head Boy Percy Weasley for quite some time until she discovered his change in preferences and that he had run off with the former Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood."  
  
There was some snickering from all sections, two cries of "STOP SCARRING ME!" that sounded suspiciously like Ron and Ginny.  
  
"Finally, Mandy Brocklehurst, Riordan Andrews, and Martin Davies, the chasers." The Ravenclaws settled down now, and Seamus continued. "Now for the Gryffindor team. Harry Potter, the captain and seeker; Dennis Creevy, the keeper; Ron Weasley and Colin Creevy, the beaters; and finally, Ginny Weasley, Carmela Moon, and Daniel Nott, the chasers." The Gryffindors took this oppurtunity to go nuts. "Harry Potter and Cho Chang approach the center of the pitch to shake hands. The players mount their brooms and Madam Hooch steps onto the field to begin the game. You know what's what now and if you don't, well..." Seamus trailed off, trying to think of a witty line, but not able to find one in his current state of distraction. "Anyway, quaffle through hoop, 10 points; seeker catches snitch, 150 points and end of the game. Is everyone clear on that? Good, I thought so."   
  
Dean glared at Seamus for his extreme lack of enthusiasm. /At least Lee was passionate about it, even if he was extremely biased./ the prefect thought to himself.  
  
"Alright, those bloody bludgers are up and there goes that elusive little snitch. Madam Hooch releases the quaffle, and the game begins." Seamus's voice had gained a little more energy than it had a few minutes ago. Being caught up in what was about to happen, the thought of a girl or whatever that pink-haired thing was hiding in Dean's trunk had totally slipped his mind. That did not mean, however, that he lost the little trace of panic in his voice. "Martin Davies of Ravenclaw house beats Ginny Weasley to the quaffle. Martin swerves out of the way of multiple bludgers sent his way by the Gryffindor beaters, Colin Creevy and Ron Weasley."  
  
Martin, a lanky third year with shaggy brown hair and denim blue eyes, just missed the last bludger sent his way by Ron. That was enough for him to have dropped the quaffle. Within a matter of seconds, Ginny dove to recover the quaffle for the Gryffindors. Swerving around the bludgers knocked towards her by Adam and Maria. Adam was almost a spitting image of Cho, except his eyes were an emerald green. Maria, another third year, was the shortest on the team at 5 feet tall, not your typical beater material.  
  
"Gryffindor scores!!" Seamus announced as the Gryffindors cheered, loudly drowning out his next few words. "Riordan Andrews now has the quaffle... he dodges Carmela, and easily maneuvers around Ginny. He shoots... and ouch!!! Off of the edge of the hoop! /That/ had to hurt. That makes the score Gryffindor seven, Ravenclaw three. I mean, Gryffindor ten,   
Ravenclaw zero."  
  
The next half hour of the game passed like the first ten minutes. Gryffindor would get the quaffle and Ravenclaw would steal, then Ravenclaw would drop the quaffle and a Gryffindor would pick it up. Seamus was not as together as he thought he was. The realization that he and Dean have a girl or whatever she was locked, not so much locked as closed in, a trunk in their dormitory had finally dawned on him. He started calling bludgers "bulgers", referred to the people by the wrong names, mixed up the score, and even started to mutter "they know, they know" until Dean took the liberty of whacking him upside the head. Things couldn't get much worse. Just then, a little gleam of gold materialised and Seamus pulled himself together enough to start announcing once again.   
  
"And there they go. Harry Potter /and/ Cho Chang have both spotted the snitch."  
  
Harry dove, Cho dove. Harry sped up, Cho sped up. Harry fell back, Cho fell back. This was starting to look like the game back in the third year where Cho followed Harry's every move.   
Actually, this game was /exactly/ like the one three years ago.   
  
"And here comes a bludger hit by Adam Chang... and bloody hell! It's headed straight for Harry's head." Seamus's voice boomed over the scene. "Harry veers off course as he just misses the bludger. Cho's almost there... and oh! The snitch is gone." After the gasps of the Gryffindors finished their collective gasps, there followed a generic sound of disappointment from the Ravenclaws.  
  
"At this point, the game is tied. Ravenclaw: 80, Gryffindor: 80. The quaffle is passed from Ginny to Carmela, from Carmela to Justin, from Justin back to Carmela. Carmela shoots, and Jules is just a second too late. Another ten points for Gryffindor."  
  
Carmela was an average size girl of average weight with dark brown, almost black, hair and hazel eyes. Though the only second year on the team, her flying skills were phenomenal. She had the ability to change direction literally within the blink of an eye. Daniel was just another pretty boy of Hogwarts, noted for his good looks as much as Draco Malfoy. Seamus never failed to notice his natural blonde hair and mesmerizing cerulean eyes.  
  
Ravenclaw Keeper Jules Jacobs, another ogle-able lanky boy that served as eye-candy for Seamus, had long jet-black hair and gray eyes. He'd missed the block due to the fact that he veered to the wrong side. When he realized that the quaffle was coming from his left and not his right, it was too late, for Carmela had already scored.  
  
"There's movement above the rest of the game. Harry and Cho are headed after the snitch again, that fast little bugger. Harry looks like he is about to... yes, yes... it is... it's the Wronski Feint!! Perfectly executed too. And it looks like... yes... Harry Potter has caught the snitch! 150 points for Gryffindor! Gryffindor wins with 240 points to Ravenclaw's 90. This is Seamus Finnegan for the Hogwarts Ravenclaw/Gryffindor quidditch match, signing off." Seamus then pointed his wand to his throat and whispered "/Quietus/"   
  
With that, the entire Gryffindor house ran out to the center of the pitch to once again congratulate Harry for another win. This was the routine after every quidditch game for the last four years. No one, yet anyway, had been able to beat the famous Harry Potter to the snitch. Everyone else left in a quiet, dignified manner. After the rest of the houses had filed out of the pitch, the Gryffindors cavorted back to the common room to celebrate.  
  
The walk back was just as tiring as the walk down, except this time, there was no need to hurry. Neurotic energy was building up between Seamus and Dean. It had just occurred to them that all of the Gryffindors (except the quidditch team) were back in the common room and dormitory.  
  
"Nobody will be in our room... will they Seamus?" Dean said with the infamous butterflies accumulating in his stomach, the ones that felt more like bricks right now, as he and Seamus sauntered back to the common room.  
  
"Nobody except Harry, Ron, Daniel and..." Seamus trailed off.  
  
The two boys looked at each other, experiencing a moment of mental telepathy. "Neville!" They chorused.  
  
Within moments, their leisured pace had quickened into a run. Upon entering the common room, they were colourless except for extremely rosy cheeks and noses. Both were hoping that Neville had conveniently forgotten about seeing Dean close the trunk lid as they shut Marionette in. Neville forgot everything else, right? So no worries. They hoped.  
  
The common room was flooded with Gryffindors celebrating the quidditch victory- the upperclassmen even threw back bottles of butterbooze, the third years put on music and started what seemed to be a club, and everyone else had just decided to talk if they weren't dancing. Dean and Seamus scanned the scene to only find Neville missing.  
  
Dean looked at Seamus, "I think we may have a slight problem."  
  
Seamus nodded his head in agreement, feeling at this point as if he had broken the nervousness barrier. The two boys split up, Dean looking in the dormitories and Seamus thoroughly searching the moshing mob of students in the common room.  
  
During the course of their search, Seamus harshly interrogated anyone he mistook to be Neville, until people started to look at him strangley. A whole hour went by, and after Seamus had finished the search of the mob in the common room, he managed to meet back up with Dean. The two took the oppurtunity to share their findings.  
  
"Nobody in any of the dormitories. Except Hermione who is doing a bit of 'light' reading again. What about you?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Well," Seamus started with a sigh. "I managed to mix up everyone who looks like Neville from the back with Neville himself. Needless to say, vituallly everyone I turned around accidentally thinks I'm mad. But," Seamus threw a finger in the air, and Dean finally thought he was on to something. "My findings are thus- people are either dancing to that annoying music, snogging, or drunk. Unfortunately, actually fortunately, Neville is nowhere to be found /here/. Where on earth do you think he is?"  
  
As if right on cue, a yell came from outside of the common room. In fact, it was the all too familiar yell of Neville.  
  
"Let me in!! Let me in!!" The hapless boy sounded like an impatient little three-year-old who wasn't getting his way. Lucky for Neville, the Quidditch team was approaching the portrait. When the quidditch team entered, people crowded them and shouted out their congratulations. (As if things weren't loud enough already.)  
  
Like always, the team entered one by one with Harry entering last. Harry glared, holding tight to Neville's left arm muttering something to him that looked like "I /need/ to talk to you." Neville consented and off to Harry's dormitory they went.  
  
"Hmm... I wonder what /that/ is all about." Seamus started maliciously. "Perhaps Harry has the hots for Neville and wants to tell him in his dormitory so they can snog in private without anyone knowing about it. Or..." but before Seamus could come up with another socially radical idea about Harry, Neville, and various toppings that were usually reserved for ice cream sundaes, Dean gave a pull at his arm and off to the dormitory they went.  
  
"First of all, Harry and Neville?" Dean cringed at the thought and threw a confused look at Seamus who in return, just shrugged. "Seamus, you /are/ mad aren't you?"   
  
"No, just extremely gay." he smirked. "And if I can't be heterosexual, why should anyone else be-"  
  
Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically, paying no heed to Seamus's inane babble. "Harry is /so/ checking out Draco... everyone and their owl knows that The Boy Who Lived wants The Boy Who Is Incredibly Vain. Anyway, had you forgotten why we are up here in the first place?"   
  
Seamus shaped his lips as to answer the question but Dean cut in before he had a chance to say anything.  
  
"That was a rhetorical question. Anyway, what are we going to do with that girl... spirit... thingy that we have locked up in /my/ trunk? We can't keep her there forever."  
  
"We can't?" Seamus asked looking at Dean with those loveably innocent eyes of his. So Seamus's gayness was contagious today. Swell. In an act of self-defence, Dean continued to act pissed off.  
  
"No, we have to find a place to keep her where she will hopefully be hidden and not suffocate... can she suffocate? If we kill her, it's your fault and I'll have nothing at all to do with this."   
  
Dean was beginning to act panicky, so Seamus took it upon himself to grab his friend by the arm and calm him down. "Listen, I don't think she /can/ suffocate, but to be on the safe side, we won't put her anywhere where she could... okay? Second, you /need/ to relax."   
Dean stiffened as Seamus slid his fingers along his friends' collarbone but drew his hand away after one pass. "You worry too much. Let's go get her out of the trunk so she can breathe, if she does breathe, and so we can find a hiding place. Plus, living with a random pink-haired magical being can't be /that/ bad... I mean, anyone who willingly offers to do an essay for Snape can't be an evil incarnate, now can they?"   
  
Dean could see where Seamus was going with this. He was saying that they would have tomorrow free of anything- including potions essays. Dean smiled at Seamus as if to say, "Why hadn't I thought of that?" With that, they walked over to the foot of Dean's bed where the trunk and Marionette were located. Cautiously, Seamus lifted the lid only to find Marionette curled up and asleep in the trunk.  
  
"Dean, she's asleep!" Seamus said in an excited wisper. "She told us that she must be /put/ to sleep by her master. In other words, I'm the only one capable of putting her into her deep slumber to be awakened by someone else."  
  
Feeling as if they'd betrayed the girl/thing, they closed the lid again, and heard a faint yawn as they did. The trunk was opened back up only to find that Marionette awake. Both boys gaped at her in confusion.  
  
"What?" Marionette's voice was light and feathery, almost flakey, like Seamus's voice when he was trying to act clueless after being caught staring at Malfoy's posterior end.  
  
"I thought that /we/ were the only ones capable of putting you back to sleep for someone else to wake up." Dean replied.  
  
"Well, you understood correctly. Although I do take catnaps, just to regenerate. What do you need?" Marionette asked.  
  
"You /did/ say that you would write essays for us, right?" Marionette nodded in agreement as Seamus continued. "It just so happens that Dean and I have potions essays to write by tomorrow... do you think you could handle it?" Marionette nodded a second time and Seamus gave her the particulars. "It /must/ be at least five rolls of parchment on how to counteract a dark poison of your choice. Since we have not yet chosen poisons, you are going to have to choose one for us. They /must/ be different and /must/ be written in our penmanship and sentence structuring, spelling mistakes and all. Um... please?"  
  
Marionette curtseyed and set off to find supplies. She was just about to walk out the door when Dean stopped her.  
  
"Sorry, you can't go out there. Everyone's still in party mode, so you're going to have to stay in where you won't get caught in a mosh pit... but where to put you? The trunk is too cramped for you to write there... I've got it! Why don't you stay under my bed? I /do/ have that frilly thing around the bottom, and we can charm it to be sound proof from the outside and to not emit any light that you are using." Dean looked proud of himself. "Come on Seamus, let's go find something to do."  
  
"The library?" Seamus suggested.  
  
"Why? It's not like we'll be doing any homework."  
  
"Well, we've got to find out exactly what Marionette is some time before the next asteroid hits the earth." Seamus kept his voice low, feeling as if he offended the spirit in some way, even though it seemed to have no ego to harm.  
  
"Good point." Dean agreed. "But the Ravenclaws are there; it's where they always vent after a Quidditch loss, and being surrounded Ravenclaws venting their anger, especially after today's riot..."  
  
"Is not safe." finished Seamus, cracking a typical Seamus Finnegan grin. "Shall we make a library date for after dinner, then?"  
  
"I suppose so, as long as you don't phrase it that way."  
  
"Shall we sit in the library together and do some research?" Funny how it sounded even more wrong that way.  
  
"Sure."  
  
After the area was charmed, Marionette retreated to her hiding spot under Dean's bed. The two boys walked out of their dormitory talking rather excitedly to each other. While preoccupied with conversation, they walked directly into Neville heading in the opposite direction.  
  
"Oh, sorry about that," Seamus said turning around to see who it was they walked into.  
  
"Oh, it's okay. It happens all the time," Neville replied with a smile.  
  
Seamus, overcome by curiosity, cocked his head and said, "Neville, what /exactly/ did Harry want with you? I mean... are you and Harry..."  
  
Neville just stood there and blinked until...  
  
"No!" he said, horrified at the accusation. "He was only placing a memory charm on me so I could remember the password to the common room. The other Gryffindors were getting tired of either telling me the passwords or letting me in every time I came upstairs. I have to get into the room to feed Trevor." He shouldered his way between the two boys to get back through the door to his room.  
  
Dean just stood and glared at Seamus. "You know, Seamus, it's times like this I love to say, 'I told you so!!' I mean, Harry and Neville..." Dean trailed off, cringing once more at the mental picture his friend had painted for him in vivid colour. The two then continued their descent of the stairs. They found the common room emptied and completely trashed.  
  
After a quick assessment of the disaster, Seamus came to the conclusion that the Gryffindor mob decided to raid the kitchens as they did after every victory celebration. Without warning, Marionette appeared with Harry's invisibility cloak puddled around her feet. Both of her arms are full of parchment, five in one arm, and five in the other. All seemed to have ink on them.  
  
"I am finished!" Marionette said with a tone of accomplishment and a big grin on her face. Both boys jumped about five feet and then gaped in wonder as they looked at the arms of parchment and then at each other. Marionette continued, "Seamus, these are yours." She nodded to the parchment in her left arm, "And Dean, these are yours." She nodded to the parchment in her right arm.   
  
Each boy took said parchments out of Marionette's arms. Assessing the quality of the essay, a look of bafflement crossed their faces. "Why, this is completely wrong," Seamus said to Dean. 


	2. Miss Marionette, I Presume?

Authors: The Neo-Marauders (Soyokaze Pazlar, Fiora Visirel,and Fillius R. McNaire)  
Category: Action/Adventure, Humour, Romance  
Keywords: Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, slash  
Spoilers: For all four books, sister! Whaddaya want, first-year fics?  
Rating: PG or PG-13, depends on how much you can stomach.  
Summary: It isn't easy (or interesting) being part of the wallpaper, but that doesn't mean Seamus and Dean have to put up with it. Now, after summoning a Doll Spirit that insists on doing Seamus's bidding, they're facing a lot more than they bargained for. Dramatic Irony, Heavy Sarcasm, Super-Tangled Love Knots, Wicked Anime-style Plot Devices, Unfathomably Boring Classes, and the Ever-Impending Threat of SLASH!  
Disclaimer: The characters featured in this fanfic are not ours, they are J.K. Rowling's and the book company's. We are not making money off this fic, and we don't intend to. Now that the latter has been cleared up, please don't sue. And, oh yes, /do/ have a nice day.  
  
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CHAPTER THE FIRST  
Miss Marionette, I Presume?  
by Soyokaze Pazlar  
  
"Dean?"  
  
They'd been lying on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, in their pyjamas, for quite some time now. It had something to do with the fact that the crimson carpet was comfortably spongy, almost like a flat mattress, and something to do with the fact that getting up required fighting against gravity. Now, as everyone knows, fighting against gravity on a Saturday morning just to get up and write an essay is simply out of the question. That's what Sunday evening is for, children.  
  
"What, Seamus?" Dean Thomas rolled over, propping himself up on his elbow. It was the third time his sandy-haired friend had spoke his name aloud in the past fifteen minutes, and the previous times had both been followed by totally inane questions. Dean was rapidly losing his patience.  
  
Seamus didn't answer right away. He paused, probably for dramatic effect, staring at the ceiling. Then, when he felt that a sufficient climax had been built, he turned toward the other boy and established direct eye contact.  
  
What Seamus perceived as anticipation was really only Dean's agitation with him. "Come out with it, Finnegan, for pete's sake." He didn't usually call his best friend by his surname, only when Seamus was being particularly trying. Like now, for instance.  
  
"Well, I was just thinking..."  
  
"That's what I was worried about." muttered Dean.  
  
"What?" Seamus had heard him.  
  
"Nothing, go on." Dean grumbled, lying down on his stomach and staring into the fireplace. Last time Seamus had been thinking, his brain had been drawing a correlation between Professor Snape's bad attitude and apparent lack of a sex life, which led to a scarring discussion of which professors were shagging one another (in theory, anyways). This was not something Dean wanted to hear when he was feeling comfortable and safe on a Saturday morning.  
  
"I was just thinking," Seamus began again. "D'you ever feel like-" he searched for the right word- "an extra?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know, an extra. Now imagine Hogwarts's student population is the cast for one of those Muggle teen movies..."  
  
"You watch those? You're gayer than I thought."  
  
"Stop interrupting." Seamus didn't mind jabs at his sexuality, he'd gotten over that after he'd come out two months ago, but he /did/ want to get his brilliant new theory out some time before lunch. Dean might not be thrilled to listen to it, but at least he was listening. "Anyways, we're the cast in a teen movie, right? Harry's The Main Character, and Ron's 'The Best Friend'..."  
  
"Who's Hermione?"  
  
"The 'Pretty Ugly Girl,' you know the type. Thinks she's just an annoying know-it-all, but her inner beauty shows through to Ron. Cute, if you ask me." Seamus's tone didn't agree with his words. He rolled his eyes sarcastically and went on. "Parvati and Lavender are Hermione's Girl-talk Buddies. Ginny, too, but she's more 'The Little Sister.' Malfoy's 'The Evil Bully,' Crabbe and Goyle are 'The Evil Henchmen.' Neville's 'The Loser Without Lunch Money.' Cho Chang's the 'Sweet Popular Girl.' Even the ex-Gryffindors had roles, when they were around. Oliver was the 'Obsessed Jock,' Percy the 'Obsessed Nerd.' Fred and George were 'The Troublemakers,' Lee Jordan was the 'Eccentric Kid,' and Alicia, Angelina, and Katie were the 'Sporty Groupies'..."  
  
"So we're the Extras." Dean said, deadpan. "I get it, now."  
  
"That's us." Seamus lamented. "We've got two lines each to elicit a few cheap laughs for the audience, and if there's ever a remake we get cut out for budget reasons. What a stellar existence!"  
  
"Does this conversation have a point?" Dean wanted to know. "If it doesn't, I'm going back to sleep."  
  
"Life is meaningless? We're completely and totally surrounded by character stereotypes?"  
  
"Nice try." Dean closed his eyes, all ready to rest, when suddenly /he/ started thinking. Damn that Seamus Finnegan for passing on his bad habits. "Seamus, we're not the Extras."  
  
"We aren't?" said Seamus. "Do tell."  
  
"We're the Represented Minorities." Dean explained. "I'm the 'Token Black Guy.' You're the 'Token Gay Guy.' Any questions?"  
  
"Oh, so we're there to keep the Liberal Protest Groups from rioting? That's even better." Seamus cried. "If only things weren't so mind-bogglingly boring."  
  
"I don't know, I kind of like things to be mind-bogglingly boring every once in a while, you know." Dean stated. "Just for variety."  
  
Seamus was about to protest, but he was soon interrupted by Hermione Granger bursting through the portrait hole. Her face was flushed with the vigor of studying, and she was carrying, as usual, the better part of a multi-volume encyclopedia. As fast as she could, she dumped the books onto the table, and stopped to regain her breath.  
  
"Hallo, Hermione." Seamus greeted her genially. "Been doing a little light reading?"  
  
"Very funny." she replied. "I see you're still in your pyjamas."  
  
"Go pick on Harry and Ron." Dean mumbled from the carpet. "They're still in bed. At least we're out."  
  
"Scratch that." said a the voice of another pyjama-clad figure, blindly stumbling down the stairs.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione sounded shocked. "It's nearly nine-thirty. I've been up since six."  
  
"You've missed the better part of the day, Ron." The youngest Weasley son did a playful mockery of his female friend's voice. "I went off to the library and got three hours' worth of studying done, but that wasn't quite enough, so I brought back a few-" His eyes caught the massive stack of volumes on the table, and his voice dropped back to his normal octave. "-books. Oh, am I ever good."  
  
"You're certainly the infuriating little pest this morning, aren't you?" Hermione threw her hands on her hips.  
  
"Me?" Ron stretched, still waking up. "Does becoming a Prefect /always/ make one this sour and irritable, because I can remember the same thing happening to my brother, Per-"  
  
"Don't you dare compare me with him, Ronald Weasley." Hermione's voice took on a warning tone, but she didn't say anything more. Instead she turned to her other housemates, still lying on the floor like jungle cats. "What /are/ you looking at?" she demanded.  
  
"The live entertainment." Dean snickered.  
  
"You and Ron." said Seamus, feeling a snicker of his own coming on. "You two are /so/ melodramatic. Bicker, bicker, bicker, all day long, and then you have your sweet, sappy moments... I wish I had someone I could be 'just friends' with that well."  
  
Denial was a bit more than a river in Egypt for Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Although the attraction between them was blatantly obvious, both hated any indication that their relationship was deepening. With an unbecoming scowl on her face, Hermione aimed a kick right at Seamus's feet.  
  
The sandy-haired lad simply rolled out of the way and stood up, moving out of Hermione's range. "I'm getting dressed." he said, then turned to Dean. "Fancy a walk, Thomas?"  
  
"Why not?" his friend agreed. "Doing nothing has its tedious moments."  
  
At that, they left the redhead and his not-girlfriend alone, and headed back up the stairs to the sixth-year dormitory. The entire population of Gryffindor expected to find them making out in a broom closet one day; it was only a matter of time. /Shame they're so damn cute together/ Seamus mused, pulling on a sweater. /Otherwise, I'd have to be jealous of Hermione./ His Ron-lust wasn't much to worry about, right now. In fact, the thing he worried about most was not having enough to worry about.  
  
Now, someone like Harry Potter had enough to deal with. First, there were classes, where the teachers expected everything of him simply because he was famous. Then, there was Quidditch. As the new team captain, he had to keep everything running smoothly. Classmates, too- evil ones like Draco or pretty ones like Cho- always were posing a problem. And, oh yes, there was that nasty bit about fighting the Dark Lord over there on the side. But, suffice it to say, his life was by no means boring.  
  
By no means did Seamus want to be Harry Potter. Sure, the boy had adventures, but they were so clichéd, so children's bookish, and so undeniably heterosexual that they weren't the adventures for Seamus. Studying abroad in say, Greece or Egypt, that would be enough. And his escapades wouldn't have to involve evils or horrors of any kind- just a few good-looking men, thank you very much. Clothing optional.  
  
Speaking of clothing... Seamus pulled on his pants before Dean could catch him drooling over his own fantasies. "Ready to go?" he queried. Dean nodded, and they began their walk through the halls of Hogwarts.  
  
A strange silence hung in the air today; partially due to the fact that most of the other students were either still asleep or playing outside. And yet, the silence also seemed to be that of a museum, with all the artifacts resting, their time on Earth past. Not even the paintings shouted out their cheery greetings today. Usually their talkative demeanor was enough to try one's patience significantly.  
  
While Dean thought the silence to be a nice change for once, it was making Seamus nervous, so nervous in fact that he felt inclined to drum his fingers along the wall. Eventually, he picked a rhythm to match his footsteps. For a while, that was all that could be heard in the swallowing silence.  
  
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap.  
  
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, TAP-TAP.  
  
Seamus instantly stopped. He would have never noticed under other circumstances, but the last tapping sound had been different. "Hey, Dean, listen to this." He tapped the panel again. There was definitely a difference- it echoed. In order to illustrate this point, he alternated between tapping the renegade panel and one of its more conformed siblings, creating a sound somewhat akin to a clock.  
  
"That's odd." Dean commented. "Isn't that what walls sound like when there's a secret passage behind them?"  
  
"Thank you, Nancy Drew." Seamus responded, staring at the panel and trying to find where a secret passage would open if there was one to begin with. "Surprises me that Potter, Weasley, and Granger never found this one..."  
  
"Like they'd ever tell us if they did?" said Dean. "Not that it would ever make any difference. Those three think we're so oblivious to everything. Of course they forget that we share a room with two of them." A thin crack in the panel caught his eye, so he pointed it out to Seamus. "Try that."  
  
"Hm." Seamus observed the crack, which was entirely too horizontal to have occurred naturally. "Got a file or something?"  
  
"No, sorry." responded Dean. "Why are we doing this, anyway? Do we have any motive whatsoever?"  
  
"Boredom? The fact that it's better than writing a Potions essay?"  
  
"Fair enough." agreed Dean. Then something clicked. File... Potions essay. His notes for his Potions essay were on file cards. File cards located in his pocket. "Will this work?" He held up a card that said something pointless- and totally illegible- about wolfsbane.  
  
"Thanks." said Seamus. "Hey, what's this written in, secret code? Or did you just dip a chicken's feet in ink and let it run across the parchment?"  
  
"That's my handwriting, git."  
  
Seamus laughed. Using the card as a very small lock pick, he triggered a spring through the crack and the panel sprung wide open. "Entirely too easy." he commented, stepping into the dark area beyond. Dean followed, and the moment both boys were standing in the secret passage, the panel slammed behind them, leaving them in the dark.  
  
"Well, isn't this just lovely." complained Dean. As if hysterical, Seamus let out another laugh. Not amused, Dean poked him in the back. Hard.  
  
"Ow!" Seamus cried. "What was that for?"  
  
"Getting us stuck in here and then enjoying it." Dean snapped. "Tell me, what's our next course of action? Use up all of our air screaming for someone to let us out, or just accept our fate and quietly suffocate to death?"  
  
"I'm sure we can get out any time we want to." Seamus assured him, then took out his wand. "In the meantime, we'd best create a cheery atmosphere. Lumos."  
  
It was when everything was bathed in a pale, eerie light that they realized they were not in a secret passage after all, but a long-forgotten room, presumably that of a long-forgotten Victorian school girl... but who was she? And would she be doing at Hogwarts?  
  
It seemed the answer was coming from the four-poster canopy bed in the corner of the room. Seamus didn't know how, but he sensed /something/ behind those curtains. Something... breathing. Or something that shouldn't have been breathing, but was. Something that shouldn't be.  
  
It was calling him for help.  
  
He grabbed hold of Dean's wrist and drew him towards the darkened corner. Feeling an unknown force coercing him to do so, he drew back the curtains on the canopy bed, lacey ghosts in the wand-light. And all around him, the air was still and quiet with death.  
  
Lying against the white pillow was a girl, or what appeared to be a girl. She could have been fourteen, or fifteen, but it was impossible to tell with her eyes closed. Her attire was more that of a doll's than a human's- a ruffly white pinafore over a dress of robin's egg blue. The billowing skirt came down to about knee-length to reveal stockings horizontally striped blue-and-white, like something out of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.  
  
By far the most unnatural aspect of the girl was her hair. Perhaps it was a trick of the wand-light, but her long hair was pink- bright pink, the pink of birthday cake flowers. If anything, that indicated that what they were dealing with was not human. She was not dead, and not alive. She simply was.  
  
Dean and Seamus exchanged hesitant glances, totally unsure what to think.  
  
"Who..." Dean felt the word escape his mouth.  
  
"More like what." corrected Seamus, a glint of light catching his eye. It was reflected off some sort of pendant around the girl's neck, a pendant in the shape of a butterfly, set with a stone that reflected all the colours of the spectrum. Opal, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was giving of an almost magnetic power, one that slowly drew Seamus's hand towards it.  
  
Cold. The butterfly was cold. And glowing. A blinding light overpowered the room, causing the two boys to fall a few steps backwards. Instantly they turned from the canopy bed, running as fast as they could towards the door-panel, forcing it back open and stumble back outside.  
  
"See, didn't I tell you we could get back out?" Seamus insisted.  
  
"Forget that." Dean told him. "That was too weird. What was that thing?"  
  
"I don't know." Seamus shook his head. "But I don't think we'll see it again. We'll look it up in the library later." He looked at his watch. "Isn't there a Quidditch match in about five minutes? We should go get our cloaks and things, shouldn't we?"  
  
  
"Right." Both of them were still a little shaken, only to get an even bigger shock when they got back to the Gryffindor tower. The Common Room and all the dorms were empty... or so they thought.  
  
Seamus dug frantically through his trunk, searching for his red-and-gold scarf. It always seemed to missing the instant the weather got cold. "Now whatever happened to the bloody-" he muttered, but was interrupted by a voice from his bed.  
  
"Are you Seamus?"  
  
He turned around. It was the girl, sitting up, eyes wide open. They were blue, matching her dress as if painted with identical pigments.  
  
"Bloody hell!" he screamed. "Dean! DEAN!!! SHE'S-"  
  
Dean came running back into the room to find the mysterious girl alive, well, and standing across from Seamus Finnegan, whose face had totally lost colour. Seamus looked as if he were trying to say something, but couldn't.  
  
"Are /you/ Seamus?" the girl turned to Dean and asked him.  
  
"Um... he is." Dean was more than confused at this point, but at least he knew who his best friend was. Of course, if he had known the pink-haired girl was instantly going to embrace the boy, he wouldn't have told her, just for the sake of Seamus's sanity.  
  
"What would you like?" asked the girl, after hugging Seamus warmly.  
  
"I'm /queer/." Seamus said rather bluntly. "I'd like nothing. Just, please don't do that."  
Dean snickered. "Oh, shut up."  
  
"Sorry. It's just... girls always seem to like the queer guys. I think it's funny." said Dean  
  
"I don't." Seamus shivered, then turned to the girl. "Would you mind explaining who you are?"  
  
"I'm a doll-spirit." she replied, as if reciting something before a class. "I am a magical familiar programmed to obey whoever wakes me. I can assist you in everything from spells to housework."  
  
"Right." Seamus nodded. He'd look more up in the library later. "Can you be put back to sleep?"  
  
"I can, but I can't tell you how. All I know is that I go unconscious before they put me to sleep." she explained.  
  
"All right, I'll have to look that up, too. Dean, will you help me?"  
  
"Sure." Dean agreed.  
  
"This is Dean." Seamus told the girl. "He's my best friend. If you're going to listen to me, you should listen to him, too. Do you have a name?"  
  
The girl curtseyed low, like a servant. "Some have called me Marionette."  
  
Marionette... there was so much wrong with the name. It was a name that spoke of strings, blind obience, control... abuse. An unsettling feeling rested on Seamus's shoulders. There were disturbing details to Marionette's story, no doubt, and he didn't want to hear them.  
  
Before he could find out any more information, a shout from the behind the painting door in the Common Room was audible.  
  
"LET ME BACK IN! LET ME BACK IN!!!"  
  
Dean and Seamus exchanged a knowing glance. "Neville." they said in unison, suddenly realizing that they were going to have a problem.   
  
"If he sees Marionette..." began Dean.  
  
"Can you hide?" Seamus asked the pink-haired doll-spirit.  
  
"I will." She climbed into Seamus's trunk, curling into a ball. Feeling like he should just wake up from the nightmare already, Seamus shut the lid.  
  
The nightmare was just beginning. 


	3. A Little Research

----  
CHAPTER THE THIRD  
A Little Research  
by Fillius R. McNaire  
  
"Why, this is completely wrong," Seamus said to Dean.  
  
Dean nodded, eyes wide as he read once again through the first couple paragraphs. Seamus broke the silence with a snicker. "Listen to this, Dean. 'The Draught of the Living Death is a potion so powerful that it causes the drinker to fall passionately in love with the first person he or she sees.'"  
  
"Yeah. It seems that she got the two potions confused." Dean shot a look down towards the pink-haired doll. Her robin's egg blue eyes had swollen to the size of saucers, and now watered with enormous teardrops.  
  
"Master!" she cried, running toward Seamus. She fell down on her knees, soiling her stockings on the trashed carpet of the Gryffindor Common Room. "Please pardon me from my unfortunate mistake! It will not happen again!" Something in her voice reminded Seamus ever so slightly of Harry's house elf friend before he was freed... what was his name again? Dobby. That was it.  
  
Marionette held fast to Seamus's leg, sobbing unto his khakis. Seamus lifted his leg and shook it a little bit, but the doll did not let go. "Er, Marionette? Really, it is okay. Um, I am sure you didn't mean to screw up so horribly on purpose." He hesitantly reached down and patted her pink hair. Hair that was silky soft, so ultimately human, it sent a shiver through Seamus's spine. Not a pleasant one, at that.  
  
The doll raised her head, with streams of water draining down her porcelain face, "Seamus, I didn't mean too, really I didn't. I only want to serve you!"  
  
Dean snickered, and Seamus sent him a dirty look. "It's fine really. We probably should do our essays ourselves. Ouch!" Seamus intensified his glare when the other boy poked him hard in the side.  
  
"Are you sure?" Marionette released Seamus's leg, but remained on her knees looking up at him with those abnormally colored blue eyes.   
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now get up off your knees. You're... um... soiling your dress." Coming from Seamus, it was one of the most unconvincing statements ever.  
  
Marionette jumped up and hugged him tightly; then taking his hanging hand, she kissed it. Seamus was too shocked to move - coldness ran through him. Goosebumps raised on his arms and the hair on back of his neck stood on end. Her kiss froze him. Frozen in a /bad/ way. "Thank you! Thank you!" She exclaimed, rather too enthusiastically, "I shall never forget your kindness."  
  
As she ran off, Seamus shifted uneasily, and looked sideways towards Dean who shrugged in return. Seamus protested the affection of the spirit noiselessly, and Dean cackled, "Most boys would be overly pleased to have a feminine creature hug them so aggressively, and be standing at the perfect height."  
  
The sandy-haired boy tilted his head down letting little pieces of hair fall in front of his hazel eyes. Standing in silence, he worked on suppressing a very wicked grin. Of course, he was thinking of all the people he would love to have at /that/ height... Ron, Justin, hell even Draco- no, wait, that would be a /bit/ weird. Eventually, he looked up, smirking, "I say, Thomas, it is time for food."  
  
At the same time, if on cue, Dean's stomach rumbled, "Yeah, that seems like a very good plan. Then to the library?"  
  
Seamus nodded, and the two scrambled out of the portrait hole, and headed to the Great Hall.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Marionette ran back to her designated spot in the boys' dormitory, being mindful not to be seen by the other Gryffindors. Seamus had promised her a new spot in the room but, because Dean was still protesting the idea of keeping something that could possibly breathe in a trunk, he had not had the time to find another place for her. So, into Seamus's trunk she slid.  
  
After about an hour of lying in the trunk, she crept out remembering that the students were just now starting dinner. She slid an arm under Seamus's bed and clutched the bag of his belongings that were taken out of the trunk to make room for her. The bag was slowly pulled from beneath the bed and it was opened. Figuring Seamus would have something to pass the time, Marionette started rummaging through his bag. Among some of the items that were tossed aside after they were pulled out of the sack were a slinky, various posters of Quidditch players (the kind a teenaged witch would have hanging on her wall), a very overdue library book, notes from Madame Pince about the overdue library book, and a football that he used to kick around when he was a child. The next thing that Marionette pulled out amused her. It was a long piece of multi-coloured string tied together at both ends. She tried to figure out the use of this cat's cradle string. Needless to say, she never quite figured it out, even after an hour and a half. She tossed the string aside and reached for the back of the bag. The very last item in the bag was Seamus's journal.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Finnegan! Cut it out!!!" Dean laughed after Seamus started to play with two chicken legs. He had found it amusing to use them as maracas while imitating the woman on the stickers of the Chiquita bananas across the table from Dean. Seamus laughed as he sat the drumsticks back on his plate. They were very lucky that none of the teachers had looked in his direction; he would have surely gotten another detention.  
  
"What?? Oh come on Dean! Lighten up! It's almost Christmas break! This is the time when everybody goes completely out of his/her mind," Seamus said chucking a handful of lettuce at Dean's head. Seamus's poor aim made the lettuce hit Jules Jacob square in the back of the head. After turning around, he threw a handful of peas back at Seamus who ducked and that hit a Ravenclaw who then screamed, "FOOD FIGHT!!!" Within seconds, the entire school was enveloped in a food fight. Snape tried to put a stop to it after approximately twenty minutes only to be hit in the stomach with a chicken leg. Everyone froze once they realized what had happened. Had it have been up to him, the entire school, except the Slytherins, would be in detention.  
  
"ENOUGH!!" Snape screamed as he stood up from the teachers' table and sauntered over towards the center of the room, "When I find out which one of you is responsible for this, you will spend a months worth of detention in the Forbidden Forest. Now, finish eating and in a civilized manner." As he said this, he eyed up the part of the Gryffindor table where Seamus and Dean were sitting.  
  
Seamus sat with his eyes fixed on his friend across the table. "Do you think we'll be caught?"  
  
"What do you mean we, Seamus? You're the one who started it. But, no, you won't be figured out. Anyway if you were, Snape wouldn't be allowed to issue the months worth of detention because Dumbledore would think he was just using his bias against Gryffindor to give you detention. So, don't worry about it."   
  
"Dean, are you feeling alright? I mean you are starting to sound like me. You /are/ supposed to be the smart one here, the prefect for crying out loud," Seamus said with an air of mockery. Seamus flickered a large smile at Dean and together, they burst out in laughter. Both were not quite sure why they were laughing; it could have been an after effect of the food fight or it could have been the result of an unspoken bond that lies between the two of them.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
After their stomachs had been satiated with every imaginable sweet the Hogwarts's kitchen provided for this meal, the two boys sauntered into the library. Yawning, Seamus stretched out into a comfy leather chair, and Dean slid into the one beside him. It was several minutes before either boy got in the mood to work on the Potions essay.   
  
"We could always unscramble them," Dean suggested, finally.  
  
Seamus shrugged, and let his vision drift over the various bookshelves. His gaze finally meandered to the library entrance where a certain white-blonde boy was entering. His hair happened to be styled with a little too much with Cliodna's Mastermind. Musky cologne diffused into the air and wafted into Seamus's nostrils. Dean coughed quite loudly, as if to get his friend's attention, but his friend's attention was elsewhere, specifically (to put it bluntly) on Draco Malfoy's arse.  
  
Dean waved his hand in front of the boy's eyes, "Earth to Seamus..." No response. Dean cleared his throat, drawing the attention of several other students in the room, each glaring at his interruption of the silence. Dean rolled his eyes, and then offered a swift kick aimed for the middle of the Irish lad's shin. Perfect execution.  
  
"Ow! Dammit!" Seamus drew his leg up unto the chair and hugged it tightly. "What did you do that for?"  
  
Dean jabbed a finger accusingly towards Seamus's chest, "You were ogling Malfoy, when we have an essay to write... er... unscramble."  
  
Seamus started to protest, but the lanky Slytherin Seeker waltzed across his peripheral vision, and Seamus's thoughts went out to sea. In agitation, Dean whacked his friend across the back of the head, and Seamus leaped back into reality.  
  
"Don't play innocent," Dean snapped.  
  
Seamus just shrugged. "Alright," he yawned like a lazy cat.  
  
Dean raised both eyebrows, but thought best to ignore the subject altogether. He reached into the sack, and fished out the ten rolls of parchment.  
  
/The effectiveness of a love potion is so complex, / Dean's essay read, /that it causes the drinker to fall into a sleep so deep that it parallels death. /  
  
"I always knew love was tedious, but don't you think that is a bit excessive?" Seamus asked, reading over Dean's shoulder.  
  
Dean nodded as he read on. /Under the effect of love, one cannot be awaken until a proper Master revives the sleeper. Even then, the person affected is subject to complete servitude of the Master. /  
  
Seamus yawned again. If love was tedious, Potions essays were ten times worse. Dean rolled his eyes, and tried to focus on the scrambled essay, but it was useless. It seemed to be going nowhere, and his mind was as jumbled as the parchment he held in his hands.   
  
"Dean?"  
  
Merlin's Beard, what did he what now? Dean questioned silently. "Yes, Seamus?" He was surprised at how tired his voice sounded, but then again it was getting late. How much time had passed, anyhow?  
  
"Your it!" Seamus bolted from his chair and jumped over the table with the elegance of a jackrabbit. Turning, he smirked mischievously at his dark-featured friend.   
  
The dials of Dean's minds turned slowly, not quite clicking, what exactly was this boy up to? Click! Tag. Tag in the library. Now Dean was sure Seamus had completely lost it.   
  
"Seamus, I'm not sure it is the best idea. I mean, seriously. Tag? In the library?"  
  
Disgusting. He sounded exactly like a prefect. Wait, he /was/ a prefect. Which meant he had the power to tell Seamus off and threaten to take points. Which is exactly what he was going to do, damn it. Working up his most intimidating variation of the Prefect's Glare (copyright 1991, Percy Weasley) he looked over at Seamus and...  
  
Seamus crossed his arms and pouted, little wisps of sandy silk caressed his wrinkled brow. "C'mon, Dean. Since when have you joined the ikkle Hufflepuffs? Madame Pince is out right now. She won't be back for fifteen minutes-- "  
  
Just as Dean opened his mouth to question Seamus's knowledge of when Madame Pince planned her return, he noticed the sign on her desk- Back in Fifteen Minutes. Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "Seamus, you're crazy."  
  
"Nope, just bored. Your it!" With that he sprinted into one of the aisles-- the Transfiguration section.   
  
Dean lazily scrambled across the table scattering the parchments everywhere. He jogged down the aisle where Seamus disappeared. Seamus happened to be waiting at the end, but at the sight of "It" he dashed down another side aisle. This went on until Dean mastered enough energy to sprint. As far as games of tag go, this one was going pretty well, and Seamus was evading Dean's grasp fairly well, only several close calls. Seamus was leaping around Dean with leprechaun precision when they rounded a corner. It was, unfortunately for the boys, a dead end. Seamus, skipping backwards, failed to notice the looming bookshelf. He ran into it full force. As fate would have it, Madam Pince returned to her station just as the shelf crashed to the floor.  
  
Seamus moaned, blinking his eyes, trying to clear away the blurriness. What had happened, why was he on the floor, what was he doing surrounded by books? He knew he hadn't gotten drunk and gone on a mass studying spree, that would only happen to people like Hermione Granger, who went on mass studying sprees in their normal state of mind. But if he wasn't drunk, why did his head hurt so much, and why was his vision unclear? Groggily, he attempted to prop himself up on his elbows, but Madame Pince was ahead of him, and jerked him upwards by the collar of his robes. Had Seamus been more alert, he might have wondered where the small witch gained that much upper body strength, but lucky for us, his mind wasn't working at the moment.  
  
A severe pain shot through Seamus's skull as he was abruptly uprooted. He moaned and sent a hand clamping to his forehead. "What has been going on here?" The spectacled witch shrieked in a severe whisper.  
  
Seamus looked at her, and then toward Dean, who was hovering in a corner, attempting to escape the librarian's wrath. Seamus shook his head-- he honestly had no recollection. "I-I-er..."  
  
"We were trying to reach a book," Dean interposed quickly, seeing that his roommate was in a state of utter stupor.  
  
Madame Pince was dubious. She raised both of her eyebrows above her lenses, and inquired-- "In the Witch Cosmetic and Fashion Section?"  
  
Dean shrugged, "Well, I am sure you have heard Seamus is gay..." Seamus blinked angrily at Dean, but his foggy mind couldn't piece together a retort.  
  
Madame Pince pursed her lips together, unsure of response. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, and place the books back right, in accordance to the Athenian Alphabetical System." With that she stalked off, probably hearing two Ravenclaw girls snickering in one of the other aisles.  
  
As Madame Pince disappeared from view sight, Dean crossed to his confused friend. He placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder and looked concernedly into Seamus's hazel eyes, noticing, for the first time, the golden flecks that danced around the pupils. "Are...you...ooh...kay?" Dean spoke slowly so the discombobulated Irish lad could understand him. Much to Dean's surprise, the stupor vanished from the dilated pupils, and the blank, innocent face contorted into a mischievous smirk.  
  
"Of course I am fine, you nitwit!" Seamus whispered, "I figured we wouldn't be in much trouble if I looked somewhat injured, so...yeah." With that said, Seamus pushed away from the proximity of the other boy's body and hastily focused on the jumble of books on the ground.  
  
Dean broke into a small grin, relieved that Seamus was fine. The acting skills even had him worried. He figured Madame Pince might be back any moment to see if Seamus's condition had improved, not wanting any mortal injuries to take place in the library. Now there was this large jumble of books on the ground, mirroring everything confusing and out-of-the-ordinary that had happened that day.  
  
At the same time, both boys sighed, then looked at one another and grinned. The same feelings seemed to be reigning in both as much as confusion was concerned. "I guess we better start," Seamus shrugged, nonchalantly. Both seemed to dread the mundane task before them, but at the same time, both dropped to the ground before the books. Again, they looked at one another and grinned. It was like they were thinking with one mind.  
  
Dean cracked up and held up a book, A Witch's Guide to Hairstyles a Warlock Will Love. "Do girls actually read this stuff?" Dean inquired after pausing to look at another book- Simple Charms for Covering-Up Facial Abnormalities.  
  
"How would I know?" Seamus retorted, "I may be gay, but I'm still a guy. And thank god for that." With that he chucked a book on lip reddening charms at Dean's head.  
  
Dean ducked just in time and the book plummeted into another bookcase. The case rocked, and both boys froze, staring at it in terror. From the very top of the shelf, a tome slid down and landed sharply next to Dean. It was a fairly large volume, and fairly old. Dust covered its faded, brown-leather cover and the gilded letters that spelled out the title had peeled off, leaving a faint imprint. The bookcase from which it fell settled, and a forbidding silence fell in the library. Dean looked at Seamus who motioned to the tome. Dean picked it up cautiously, almost frightened of the secrets or horrors that lie within its pages. With delicate grace he opened it to its first page. The faded words printed there took the breath out of Dean's lungs, and a small gasp was released from his lips.  
  
"What?" Seamus whispered, anxiously.  
  
Seeking the opportunity, Dean suppressed his excitement and smirked, "Its the Karma Sutra."  
  
"WHAT?!?" Seamus snatched the book from the black boy's grasp, only to have a look of disappointment cross his face-- but it wasn't there for long. Dean watched as Seamus's hazel-flecked-gold eyes widened after reading the faded letters.  
  
/Man-made Magic: The Ethics of Doll Spirits, Artificial Intelligence Charms, and Other Such Experiments/ 


End file.
